


our universe was clothed in light

by belle_abroad



Series: infinity times infinity times infinity [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series), 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dungeons & Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Bathtub Sex, Breathplay, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, M/M, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:42:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25344127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belle_abroad/pseuds/belle_abroad
Summary: Wei Ying isn’t what one would call a hearty fellow, he knows. He is dextrous aplenty, quick fingers playing the dizi, years’ worth of near misses to teach him to be light on his feet. But he’s not robust the way Lan Zhan is, able to take a deep breath and hold it in for several minutes (minutes!), able to work through an entire series of sword forms without breaking a sweat. Wei Ying can barely make it through the sword forms at all—when he can remember them.In any case, this ongoing flaw of his own durability has never stopped him from trying something brilliant and stupid before, and it isn’t stopping him now.--You need to know even less about Critical Role and D&D than you did for the previous fic. This is just porn.
Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn
Series: infinity times infinity times infinity [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1835410
Comments: 16
Kudos: 83





	our universe was clothed in light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reinventweather](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reinventweather/gifts).



Wei Ying isn’t what one would call a _hearty_ fellow, he knows. He is dextrous aplenty, quick fingers playing the dizi, years’ worth of near misses to teach him to be light on his feet. But he’s not _robust_ the way Lan Zhan is, able to take a deep breath and hold it in for several minutes ( _minutes!_ ), able to work through an entire series of sword forms without breaking a sweat. Wei Ying can barely make it through the sword forms at all—when he can remember them. 

In any case, this ongoing flaw of his own durability has never stopped him from trying something brilliant and stupid before, and it isn’t stopping him now. 

Now, where he is currently under the water of a large bathtub in Nie Huaisang’s magnificent mansion, listening to the rumble of Lan Zhan talking to Wei Ying’s _own brother_ through the privacy screen with his dick in Wei Ying’s mouth. Heavy, hot, impossible. 

He can’t really hear what they’re saying; it doesn’t matter. What matters is the drugging feel of Lan Zhan’s cock on his tongue, the sparks of stars and blackness he’s starting to see, the weight of Lan Zhan’s hand on the back of his neck, holding him down. Not pushing, not moving, just holding him there, steady and certain, tracking Wei Ying’s pulse with the pad of his thumb. Wei Ying is absolutely going to embarrass himself soon, splutter up out of the water and mortify his brother, this unknowing participant in his and Lan Zhan’s game. But right now it’s just on the edge of too much, a hand over his own nose to keep from breathing in, his other hand held tight on Lan Zhan’s hip, where he will definitely have to tap in a couple of seconds. Soon. Now. 

Before he can register the movement Lan Zhan is pulling him up, out of the water with a gasp. Around the splashing and the gasping he can hear the _snick_ of the door latching shut. “Are you all right?” Lan Zhan is murmuring, his long fingers turning Wei Ying’s face to the light, inspecting his streaming nose, his bloodshot eyes, his red, red mouth. 

“I thought he’d _never_ leave,” Wei Ying says, laughing, although he does feel scraped raw, his lungs a red-hot coal, his body warmer than the bath around him. It’s not possible. It’s transcendent. He has enough time to wonder if it’s just…Lan Zhan, if it’s just being around this quiet, controlled force—if the result of the tide of unceasing love he’s experienced is broadening his own body’s ability to hang on—when Lan Zhan presses forward and kisses him, hand still a brand on the back of his neck, holding him in place and keeping him from thinking about anything, anything at all. Not whether Jiang Cheng saw, or heard. Not whether he’s stronger than he used to be because Lan Zhan is beside him. Just the filthy wet slide of Lan Zhan’s searching tongue, the restless groan of Lan Zhan’s deeply-felt desire. This is all that is expected of him. This is all he must do. 

Lan Zhan holds him there in the bath until Wei Ying’s breathing is controlled, long inhales and exhales enforced by the measured cycle of Lan Zhan’s kisses. He holds him there until Wei Ying is squirming with it, his thigh pressed up against Lan Zhan’s neglected erection, twisting under Lan Zhan’s hands to get his own dick up against skin. Only when Wei Ying is gasping for it, breathing little “please, pleases” into Lan Zhan’s mouth is he released by the neck and permitted to move. 

“You are so beautiful,” Lan Zhan says, brushing Wei Ying’s hair aside, letting it cascade wetly down his back, warm and cool all at once. Wei Ying feels slick and slippery and evasive, like a fish in a net, his sensitive skin responding to the slightest touch. The sparking of lights in his vision is gone, but he still feels lit up. “So resilient, so strong.” 

Wei Ying is going to lose his mind, right here in this tub. He is so close to coming he feels itchy with it, every sensuous press of the water and Lan Zhan’s body against him a prickle of _almost_ , _nearly_ , _not yet_. Lan Zhan has his hands up under Wei Ying’s rear, splayed across the curves of his ass, and he’s not moving at all, anymore, just looking down his nose through his long eyelashes, frosty white against his purple skin. Wei Ying knows he’s being catalogued, that Lan Zhan is taking in every detail he can of Wei Ying’s behavior, adding it to the collection of memories Lan Zhan keeps in his mind. He meditates over them, the absolute sap, and then he turns around and fucks Wei Ying insensate. 

“Please,” Wei Ying says, and closes his eyes. 

“Yes,” answers Lan Zhan, and lifts Wei Ying out of the bath. 

Briskly toweled and laid out on familiar sheets Wei Ying feels incandescent, glowing and healthy and alive. He looks up at Lan Zhan indulgently and twists into a stretch, the warm air wicking leftover drops of water from his body, leaving pinpricks of cool air where they evaporate on his flushed skin. He is smiling. 

Lan Zhan, above him, looks shattered. There is love written in every line of him, in the way he turns his face to Wei Ying’s, in the way he brackets Wei Ying with his own body. He loves Wei Ying, and he’s proud of Wei Ying, and he’s afraid for Wei Ying, all just from tonight. 

It’s taken such a long time for Wei Ying to be able to read his expressions again. What a gift it is now. 

“I’m all right,” Wei Ying whispers, holding a hand out for Lan Zhan to take. Instead Lan Zhan presses his head into it, butts his cheek right into Wei Ying’s palm, and closes his eyes. “I feel good, Lan Zhan. You make me feel good.” 

Lan Zhan closes his eyes under Wei Ying’s touch, feels for the pot of slick with one free hand, letting Wei Ying look at him. It is permission, of a kind—permission for Wei Ying to lift his head up and push forward, press a kiss to his forehead where the circlet usually rests, to the curve of his cheek, the corner of his eye. Sometimes he looks at Lan Zhan and wonders _does he wish that I were different?_ A different body, or with different skills—hearty and robust, instead of lean and quick? He can hear the truth from Lan Zhan’s mouth a thousand times, every iteration of _I love you, just as you are, however you are_ and still wonder, if he tries. It’s harder to deny it when he’s taking it in directly out of Lan Zhan’s eyes. 

Wei Ying hisses in a sharp breath as Lan Zhan slips a finger inside him, gentle and firm, a controlled slide. With this as with everything he takes his time, his eyes still closed, working Wei Ying up, keeping the sensation and pleasure sparking in and around him. By the time Wei Ying is stretched and ready for him even Lan Zhan is shaking from the effort, a sweet tremble in his hands and shoulders as he lines himself up and presses in. His hair is a curtain around Wei Ying, gauzy and white, illuminated from the candlelight with an unearthly glow. Wei Ying groans. 

He loves it like this, surrounded by Lan Zhan, his whole world narrowed. He’s still riding the high from earlier, still drifting in the remembered sensation of the water, and Lan Zhan’s hand, and the fire sparking in his lungs, so it’s barely a thought in his mind before it’s an action: he drags one of Lan Zhan’s hands up to his throat, and presses it firmly under his chin. 

Lan Zhan lets out a ragged gasp, fucking into him roughly, his eyes flying open, his pupils blown wide. He’s not pushing down or squeezing, just holding Wei Ying there by the throat and looking at him, really _looking_ , like he’s going to see anything other than wild-eyed enthusiasm, like he’s going to stop if he does. Wei Ying takes a very deliberate breath, looking Lan Zhan in the eyes, and presses down on Lan Zhan’s hand until Lan Zhan starts squeezing himself, applying firm, unrelenting pressure to the sides of Wei Ying’s neck. 

All at once Wei Ying feels Lan Zhan’s hesitancy vanish, feels the weighty thrust of his body into Wei Ying and the long press of his hands as his vision goes a little dark around the edges. He is raw, reactive, built to receive the stutter of Lan Zhan’s hips, the press of his mouth to Wei Ying’s even as Wei Ying can’t breathe. And then Lan Zhan lets go of his neck and moves his hand to Wei Ying’s dick and the fabric of reality sort of splinters around him as Wei Ying comes, and comes, his head thrown back in the sheets, gasping it out into Lan Zhan’s ear. His body is shaking all over, juddering shivers that leave him writhing in Lan Zhan’s lap, pushy and insistent as he can manage through a brain made of cotton wool. 

“Come on,” he hears himself saying through ringing ears. “Come on, give it to me, I want it.” 

He does want it from Lan Zhan, wants his fury and his feverish need, the maddening drag of his cock inside Wei Ying and the gentle stroke of his hand on Wei Ying’s skin. Lan Zhan does as he’s told, circling his hips until he can’t help it, until he bends down and bites Wei Ying in the hollow of his throat, worrying it with his teeth, leaving a sharp sting while he comes. 

Wei Ying’s blood roars in his ears. He can’t come again this soon but it’s good, it feels good, and it hurts too, like ice pressed to the soles of his feet, like waking up sore. Lan Zhan is over him, breathing roughly and unmoving. This is exactly where Wei Ying is meant to be. 

“Mm,” he hums into Lan Zhan’s ear. “Come here, love, you’ll freeze that way.” 

Lan Zhan huffs his noiseless laugh and eases out of Wei Ying, dropping to the side of the bed closest to the door. “Wei Ying,” he starts, and trails off. 

“That’s me,” Wei Ying sings at him, using the music to dust _prestidigitation_ over them both. Lan Zhan doesn’t always let him do this, prefers the slow drag of a wet flannel, but it’s easier this way on the road, and besides—Lan Zhan looks as exhausted as Wei Ying has ever seen him, eyes drooping closed, head falling forward, the whole bit. “Lan Zhan, lay back. It’s okay. You can sleep.” With his _mage hand_ Wei Ying draws the duvet up and pinches out the candles, just as he did the first time they slept together here, just as he always does when Lan Zhan is road-weary and fucked out. 

Lan Zhan rolls towards him, back towards the door, and noses forward to kiss Wei Ying under the ear before curling his arm around Wei Ying and, to all appearances, dropping off directly into sleep. Wei Ying loves him. Just as he is, possessive and intense, impenetrable to all others. Lucky for them both, he has Wei Ying.

**Author's Note:**

> The thing about holding your breath in D&D is that it relies on your Constitution modifier, which Wei Ying does...not have a lot of. On the other hand, Constitution saving throws are eligible for Paladin Auras of Protection, which means Wei Ying gets a bonus on his saving throw to hold his breath since he's literally right next to Lan Zhan. Should Vex be able to do it? Probably not. But if a ranger/rogue with a negative constitution modifier can do it, well, so can Wei Ying.


End file.
